


Kill Our Way to Heaven

by ShowMeHowToLie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Apocalypse world, Blood, Brotherly Love, Cas loves his humans, Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, and his half angel kid, depressing stuff lmao, dying, season 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 03:12:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14559573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeHowToLie/pseuds/ShowMeHowToLie
Summary: Dean is the one who gets hit first.The bullet jerks his body backwards, and he falls to the ground, both hands pressed against his upper abdomen. He gasps for air. Sam is by his side in less than a second, gun on the ground and panic in his eyes.***In other words: This one takes place in the apocalypse world, season 13, post episode 21 or something. Sam and Dean find themselves in a situation from which they can't escape. Is this it?





	Kill Our Way to Heaven

They are in way over their heads this time. Dean knows it, and yet he feels strangely calm. Bullets whoosh past them in their periphery. Some only miss by a few inches. Dean lets his eyes sweep over the scene, and breathes in the smell of clay, fresh rain and gunpowder. Sam pulls at his jacket. He is saying something, but the sound of firing weapons blocks out his voice. Dean reads his brother’s lips:  » Should we turn around? «

Yes. Yes, that would be the logical way of acting.  _ Flee or die _ . This is a trap - no doubt. But he is tired. Man, is he tired. And when he meets his younger brother’s eyes, he sees his own feelings, mirrored. Maybe their time has come?

» Do you want to leave? «

» No. «

» Well, ain’t that a bitch. I’ll warn the others, cover me. «

Most of them are still at the camp, oblivious to the dozens of angel’s currently shooting at him and Sam from afar. This fight was not supposed to be the main one. He and Sam were supposed to be more than enough. Dean picks up his phone, scrolls through the phone book and finds Cas’ number. He types in three words:  _ Trap. Don’t come.  _ Send. He lets the phone slip out of his sweaty palms, and it hits the ground.

» Get down. Let’s end some of these halos while we’re still kickin’.  «

Sam and Dean share determined looks, short smiles. Keeping low profiles, they approach the trenches from which the angels are firing, and by surprising them from behind, they actually manage to put two or three of them off the map. Dean is holding his breath. Waiting.

He is the one who gets hit first.

The bullet jerks his body backwards, and he falls to the ground, both hands pressed against his upper abdomen. He gasps for air. Sam is by is side in less than a second, gun on the ground and panic in his eyes. He guides Dean’s hands away from the wound, and pulls his jacket apart. The dark, red smear on the shirt underneath is growing with every passing second. Sam puts his palms over the center of it, and leans on the wound with all his weight. Dean lets out an animal cry of pain.

» Hey, hey, hey. I’m sorry. You’re good. You’re alright. « Sam swallows. He searches for his brothers eyes, desperately trying to gain his attention.

» Never better. « Dean tries to fit a short smile between his gasps for air and painful groans.

He reaches out and pats his little brother’s cheek. His hand leaves bloody marks. All he wants is to close his eyes and drift away, let the darkness take him. But if this is it, if this is where they leave the battlefield, where the epilogue starts, then this is what he wishes to remember. Dean memorizes his brother’s face. Lets his familiar features take him back to where it all started.

» It’s okay. Tough day, huh? « Dean mumbles.  

» Just shut up, will you? You’ll be fine. I’ll make sure Cas–” «

Dean hears the gunshot, feels the sudden whoosh of air. Sam’s words cut off mid-sentence. His head jerks to the side, his body goes limp and he collapses on the ground. Dean freezes. A sudden rush of adrenaline allows him to sit up, and he pulls himself closer to Sam’s body.

» Sam? Sammy? « No response. Sam’s eyes are still open, staring into complete nothingness. Dean puts one of his hands under Sam’s head, and lets the other one search for a pulse on the right side of Sam’s neck. Nothing. Nothing but a thin trail of blood, coming from Sam’s head. Dean lifts his little brother’s hair up and finds the source of the blood in a small bullet wound above his temple.  _ No. No, no, no. Sammy. _

Dean acts reflexively. He picks up Sam’s gun from the ground, and fires off a bullet in the direction of the angel with her gun aiming at Sam.  _ I hope you all die. I hope you all burn.  _ Black spots are starting to fill up most of Dean’s perception. He lets go of the gun, just to realize it is already on the ground and that he is unable to move his right arm. He feels his thoughts drift away.  _ It will all be over soon, Sammy. _

Dean lets his body go slack. His head hits the wet ground. He pulls Sam closer, and buries his face in his bloody hair.

 

***

 

Castiel’s phone vibrates in his coat, as he walks across the camp to bring a woman, whose broken arm he just healed, some water. It has started to rain. Small, grey puddles are already forming all over the campground. The angel picks his phone up and checks the display. A text message from Dean. Three words.  _ Trap. Don’t come.  _

Castiel stops, the bucket of water hits the wet ground and its content unifies with the closest puddle. He hits the dial button and waits as one, two, three, four - seven - signals pass. Then he tries again. No answer. He tries Sam’s number, but finds the younger Winchester just as unreachable.  

» Castiel? What’s going on? « Mary Winchester watches as Castiel frantically taps on his phone’s screen. She approaches him from the other side of the campground, her arms crossed, eyebrows lowered.

» I–I just received a text message from Dean. «

» And? « Mary says, a demanding tone in her voice.

Castiel hands over his phone to Mary. She takes it and reads the message. Her facial expressions go tense, and she swallows.

» A trap? What does he mean? «

» I’m not sure. I tried to call him but he doesn’t answer. Neither does Sam. I tried many times, Mary. « Castiel continues: » Maybe we shouldn’t have made them go there alone. What if they were waiting for them, what if– «

» Slow down, Castiel. We’ve got to stay calm. Where is Jack? «

» I don’t know. « Castiel closes his eyes and lets his mind reach Jack’s. Within seconds, they hear the sound of flapping wings, and see the half-angel kid’s familiar face turn up in front of them.

» Castiel. Mary. You seem troubled - what is going on? «

After explaining the situation, Jack looks at the both of them, his eyes narrow. » We have to help them. Now. We should leave immediately. «

Since Jack is unable to bring both Mary and Castiel to the place where Dean and Sam were last heard from, they decide driving is better than splitting up before they are even sure of what to expect. Not many minutes later, the three of them sit in an old, rusty Jeep. Castiel spends the entire time in the car calling Dean’s phone, over and over and over again. Jack stares out the window, and Mary drives as fast as she can, her right foot rarely off the gas pedal. Still, it takes a good twenty-five minutes until they arrive.

They get out of the car, guns and blades ready. Castiel listens. » There are no angels here, « he announces. » Well, no  _ living  _ ones at least. «

They make their way forward. It’s quiet.  _ Too quiet _ , Castiel thinks to himself. The rain has stopped now, and the sun is almost visible through a thin layer of grey clouds. A small ray of sunshine hits something shiny and black, that lies on the ground a couple of meters away. Castiel picks it up.

» Is that–, « Mary starts.

» Dean’s phone, « Castiel confirms, his voice low. »  _ DEEEEAN _ .  _ SAAAAAM _ . « No answer. Not as much as a whisper, a whistle of air. They keep walking.

Jack is the next one who breaks the silence. » I think I see something over there. What  _ is  _ that? «

Castiel follows Jack’s eyes. About fifty meters from the three of them, he sees something in the ground. »  _ Trenches _ . They were waiting for them. They were  _ definitely  _ waiting for them. «

Castiel starts to run toward the long lines of entrenchments. His heart beats fast in his chest, and he finds himself repeating a low prayer to himself.  _ Please, God, don’t let it be too late. Please. _ Jack and Mary follow him. They reach the closest trenches, and Castiel scans the environment with ice blue eyes.

Three dead angels lie on the ground, their ash wings burned into the wet soil. A fourth one lies a bit away from the others, and…

_ » No. « _

Castiel is running. Mary freezes as she realizes what he is running toward. There are two bodies on the field. Two brothers, lying next to each other.

Castiel gets there first. » Hey, hey, hey. Dean. _Dean._ « Castiel’s voice is shaking, as he turns Dean’s lifeless body over, separating his right hand from Sam. Blood. _So much blood._ Dean’s entire shirt is soaked in blood, and his hands are too. _Still warm._ Desperately, Castiel puts his hand on the older Winchester’s forehead and he tries, _he really tries_ _,_ but there is no reaction. _He’s gone. He’s really gone._ He can’t be.

» Sam? « Castiel shakes Sam’s body. Puts two fingers to his forehead, but there is nothing to be done, and he pulls away,  _ slowly,  _ his hands covering his face as he tries to breathe in, our, in out. The bodies lie in front of him, his best friend’s bodies, they are limp and slack and bloody and–.

Mary and Jack are closing up on him from behind. Castiel’s ears are ringing, and he is standing like frozen, unable to move. He hears Mary scream as she gets closer, watches as she gets on her knees, bends down over her two sons. Dean’s left hand is still under Sam’s head, probably to keep him from getting dirty on the wet ground. Mary cups Dean’s face in her hands. Then, she runs her hands through Sam’s hair, ignoring the fact that she gets blood all over her hands.  _ » No, no, no. No, God, please no _ .  _ « _

Jack is staring at the scene in front of him. _He’s just a kid,_ Castiel reminds himself. _Just a kid._ » Is he–, are they–, « he starts, but his voice trails off, because he already _knows_. Jack turns to Castiel and buries his face in the angel’s trench coat. Castiel doesn’t say anything, he just puts his arms around the nephilim and pulls him close.  The dark clouds have passed now, and the scene is bathing in sunlight. Sam’s empty eyes are gleaming. Mary lies her hand over them, hesitates for a moment.

Then she closes them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I'm sorry if there were any grammar mistakes, haha. (English is not my first language). Hope you liked it! :) By the way, the title is taken from the song "Kill Our Way to Heaven" by Michl. It's gold.


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